Cliche Maximum Ride High School story
by Beau N. Aero
Summary: Pretty much just makes fun of all the maximum ride high school story romances and such. Super funny! Please read. Rated T for language.
1. my first day sucks

**A/N: Hi! Decided to make a cliché Maximum Ride high school story while I was actually at High School haha. Enjoy!**

The air was crisp and the wind rushed through my hair as I walked the dirt-coated sidewalk on my way to school. Today was my first day of high school in Arizona. The school was called Phoenix High School.

AND I COULD KICK YO ASS!

Whoever you may be. I had sweet kung fu moves that even made Jackie Chan soil his pants. (I know from experience…. I never did get that autograph…).

I had made sure today that I looked like a boy as much as possible. At my last school in California, every guy at school tried to make a move on me, even though I'm not very pretty at all. The mind of a dumb high school male is a giant hole of sports magazines, porn sites, and, you know, sexist views of everything!

Anyway, I put on a red shirt that had a giant number on it that had nothing to do with anything (89?) and jeans were a worn out blue color and had as many holes in it as the amount of spots on a Dalmatian and the bottoms dragged on the ground underneath my converse. If my calculations were correct, no girl would come to school dressed like this! I'm a genius!

AND I COULD KICK YO ASS!

My sister Ella, who was a total shop maven (unlike me), got a ride from a friend to her middle school. I got an offer for a ride to school but I decided that guys wouldn't come after me so much if I had the dirt and sweat covering every part of my body. I definitely didn't want to look _presentable _on my first day of school. It would totally ruin my rebellious streak!

The high school building leered into view on my left. Ah, welcome to hell, Maximum Ride.

Sadly, I wasn't as late as I thought I was. When I walked through the parking lot, I noticed that some kids were just starting to get out of their cars. Unbelievable! I was going to actually be _on time._ Cue _shudder._

Most of the kids at the school, I noticed, were not much different from the ones I left at home. Some girls strutted through the rows of convertibles and SUVs, making an irritable _click click _noise with their ginormous heels and skirts that could reveal a butt cheek if one looked closely enough.

AND I COULD KICK THEIR ASSES!

Some of the "cool" guys were wearing leather jackets and the darkest sunglasses I have ever seen. A couple even had the guts to smirk when a girl in a tight shirt and small miniskirt walked by. Can you say "sexist pigs"?

AND I COULD KICK THEIR ASSES, TOO!

With a new sense of indignation, I stuck my chin up and stomped up the steps to the school. Little did I know that EVERYONE would be looking at me today.

Glancing at a couple of signs in the trashed up hallways, I finally arrived at the school's attendance office. I snarled at the pink cushy chairs that were placed below the window. I hate pink. I opened the door and made my way over to the desk where sat a perky blonde with tiny glasses. She didn't even catch a glance of me as I shut the door.

"Are you a new student?" she asked with a high-pitched voice.

"Yes."

"Name, please."

"Harry Potter," I stated, hiding the sarcasm in my voice.

"Alright, Mr. Potter, sign here and here," said the lady, shoving some papers toward me on the counter. I frowned… Well, alright then. She's even dumber than I thought.

I signed the several papers using the name Harry Potter to see how much trouble I would get into and handed them to the secretary. She was still buried in papers and she still hadn't figured out that I was a girl and a REAL person. Ugh, nimrod.

"Thank you, and here's a slip for each teacher to sign today. Have a good day. Welcome to Phebe High School," she mumbled, shoving a paper in my hand, again, without looking at me.

"It's pronounced _Phoenix _High," I said slowly.

"Mmhmm," she muttered absently. I shrugged and left the office. Yeah, I could-

ALSO KICK _HER _ASS!

"Welcome to my English class, Mr…."

My new teacher, Mr. Weinright frowned at the slip and I stood in front of the class, a hand on my hip.

"Potter?" Mr. What's-His-Face asked, looking up at me. "But Harry Potter doesn't exist!"

"No shit, Sherlock," I told him, walking down the aisle to an empty seat in the back of the classroom. "And please; call me Max."

The teacher stared at me for a moment, too confused to chastise me about my foul language in the classroom and turned to the board. I was subtly aware of the many looks I was receiving from the boys that surrounded my desk. I don't like that look…

I then realized that I couldn't have a normal classroom experience if I didn't smack on some bubble gum and draw squiggly marks on my face with a pen. I bent down and grabbed my pen and bubble gum pack out of my purse. What I saw on my desk when I got back up made me fume.

There must have been at least 30 torn pieces of scrap papers lying limply on my desk. I grabbed one and read the note.

_I think ur hottt!_

_Go out with me?_

_Robby._

I snarled bestially and read the next note.

_I like dem feisty!_

_Wanna grab some pizza after school?_

_I have a six-pack._

_Muhifosama_

I raised my eyebrow at the name and tore the note to pieces like I did with the first one. I read the rest of the notes and they all had the same idea: _Let's hook up!_ I thought I looked ugly and ungirly today! I guess guys just want to ask me out no matter what I look like! Sexist pigs! I hate them all!

I snatched a leaf of paper off one of the girls' desks next to me. I scribbled a note and held it up for the entire class to see, excluding the teacher who was facing the board.

_I COULD KICK YO ASSES!_

_GO FALL IN A DITCH, YOU SEXIST PIGS!_

_(this message has been brought to you by a girl who doesn't want to be asked out by a bunch of man-hoes!)_

I saw some jaws drop to the floor and some giggles by fellow ugly girls. I smirked. Maybe this high school wouldn't be so bad after all.

**A/N: sorry for the shortness! Next chapter will have fang and other members of the flock introduced so if you want to see it, click the green button below!**

**Thanks a bunch!**

** Miss Aero **


	2. blind and cute men and unknown voices

**A/N: Next chapter. Sort of out of character and bipolarness. Wrote kinda last minute. Thanks you rockin' reviewers! You… uh… Rock!**

**Enjoy!**

Ugh. That was the worst class of my life! It made me want to roar like a lion! Rawr!

People…. Looking….. at….. me….. I actually did roar! Oops! At least they'll think I'm REALLY weird now and leave me alone. Maybe everyone will stop asking me out. Why I'm so lovable? I dunno. I'm a pretty bad to the bone b$#*! But that's just my opinion.

"Hey."

I spun around and shoved my fists in front of my face. It was just another boy, trying to look all cool by trying to flip his freakishly whitish blonde hair. Seriously? Why do guys do that? Don't they ever get whiplash? Or better yet; they should not leave their hair so long!

"What do you want?" I sneered at him, crinkling my nose so that he would get the message that I don't like him and that-

I COULD KICK HIS ASS!

"I just wanted to say that you roar so sexily," he said with a seductive (bleh!) voice and, once again, flipping his hair, "I'm Iggy by the way. I'm blind."

I smirked and fake jabbed him in the eye. He blinked and backed up a few paces. The little sexist liar! He flipped his hair again and shoved me into a corner in the wall. I was too surprised to do anything at the time. He bent low and whispered in my ear:

"If you tell any hot babes that I can see, you won't be able to find any underwear to wear tomorrow and blow up your Crocs." **(A/N: 'Crocs' are rubber shoes that have holes in them for those who don't know. I think they're pretty dumb, no offense to those who like to shame themselves by wearing them)**

"NOT MY CROCS!" I screeched, tears pouring down my face…. "You can do that?"

Iggy nodded satisfactorily. He leaned forward and whispered in my ear:

"If anyone asks, I'm so blind that I need some assistants to help me at home. Women preferred."

I slapped him across the face. "You are such a rapist! Who would ever pity you? You can't even act like your blind!"

"Watch me." He winked and walked toward a group of stereotypical cheerleaders. I saw him lean onto their lunch table and start rubbing it fervently. He lifted his eyes vaguely and drooped his mouth.

He asked them, "Have any of you seen my blind stick?"

"Excuse me?" asked one of the cheerleaders. This one had fiery red hair and an eyebrow raised and a smirk on her lips. I didn't like these kind of people. Heck! I don't like anyone for that matter!

"I'm sorry to disrupt you wonderful young ladies but I can't seem to find the stick that helps me get around. You see, I'm blind and I need some guidance to help me get around."

"Blind?" asked the red head. She stared dumbly at Iggy, fascinated.

"It means that I have lost the ability to see," said Iggy slowly, a small, kind smile spreading across his face. That boy actually had patience for stupid people, unlike me.

"Oh," the cheerleaders murmured together. I am surrounded by idiots, am I not?

"That is so terrible!" said the redhead with a sad pout.

"My darling, what is your name?" asked Iggy.

"Lissa."

"Oh Lissa, I am sure you are the most beautiful, bodacious, and illiterate person I know," said Iggy wistfully, "If only I could see your face." Cue dramatic sigh from Iggy. This is di-sgu-sting!

I COULD KICK THEIR ASSES!

Lissa touched her heart, or at least, where it was buried if you know what I mean… "That is probably the sweetest thing a boy has ever said to me! I'll help you get to class!"

She stood up, followed by her groupies, and they each touched a part of Iggy's body and led him out of the cafeteria. I heard them say things like "Will get your stick back!" and "How horrible! Where did you last see your sight?" and "My name is Iggy, by the way" and "Oh! Ippy!" and "Uh… it's pronounced _Iggy._" and "What was that, Gibby?" and "Oh never mind. At least you're hot." and "Why thank you, Fabio!"

I rolled my eyes and stopped eavesdropping. I was on my way to the bathroom to throw up my guts when someone full on slammed right into me! All my books and papers and other things I never used were spread across the floor. I was now prone on, tasting the bitter taste of that part of the pencil that is used for writing things, you know? I forgot what it's called, but there was a pencil stuck in my mouth!

_Petooey! _My slobbery pencil dropped to the floor. "Who do you think you are?!"

The boy who had run into me leaned down and started picking up my supplies and junk. He had thin black hair and olive skin…. Or was it pickle skin?..... Potato skin? O heck! Who gives a damn! Anyway, when he had finished picking up all my crap, he looked me in the face, and I saw…. The darkest eyes I had ever seen.

They were, like, black. Like, really black…. End of story. He grinned, showing stark white teeth that were unbearably clean! Aaaaahhh! Cute boy alert! Cute boy alert!

I scrambled to my feet, collected my things from his arms, shoved him against the wall, and when he balanced himself, I shoved him again, and then I ran away.

_Phew_. That was scary…. I wonder why. I hope I don't have any classes with him. I would probably never see those dark, mysterious, and rather shallow black eyes again. I was so glad when he didn't make a move on me, because he would probably be dead or kissing right now- either one, neither sounded appealing to me.

I leant my head against the wall and breathed in deeply. Sometimes I wished there was a voice inside my head that told me how to live my life.

_You called?_ whispered a voice. My eyes popped open and I scanned the crowd of students in front of me looking for the speaker.

"Hello?" I asked stupidly. Some people looked at me so I glared back at them.

_You were asking for a voice to tell you what to do and I have obliged to fulfill your will, _the voice repeated. I could not tell whether it was male or female. I was almost positive the speaker had a twang of shman in hisser voice.

"Well, whoever you are, how should I fix this little dilemma of mine?" I asked, still searching the crowd for any sign of someone paying attention to me. I found no one.

_First, you must bow down to Lord Barney._

"I beg your pardon?" I asked incredulously.

_Thee wise purple dinosaur has answers and will rid the world of songs that do not have a hug and kiss from me to you._

"Who the hell are you!?" I shrieked quietly, barely able to keep in my scream of frustration. This shman was seriously pissing me off.

_I love you. You love me. We're a happy-_ it sang.

"Stop singing! You'll give me nightmares, Voice," I sighed. "I COULD KICK YO ASS SO DON'T MESS WITH ME!"

I metaphorically hung up on the voice and strut down the hall.

**A/N: Like? Dislike? Review! Crappy ending- I know. Too tired. I'll write again when my finals are finished next week!**


	3. the blossom of love and, nudge

**A/N: Hello wonderful readers of mine. Sorry for the slow update. Nighthawk 21, I'm guessing you're a paleontologist? **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Maximum Ride…. Duh.**

**Haha enjoy!**

Fang's POV

The minute the girl ran away (and after having rubbed my slowly bruising arm), I sobered and stared down at the ground. The new girl who had shoved me into a wall had been so beautiful with her greasy dirty blonde hair and torn up jeans. I hoped to see her again as soon as she left.

_Max. _That was the name of the girl! _Max. _Isn't that a boy's name? Oh well, it hardly matters. She held my heart anyway. The way her chocolate brown eyes stared at me made my heart squeeze. I almost felt… a sort of familiarity when I looked into those innocent yet boy-like eyes. I felt like I had known Max for a very long time… Dumb, right? I mean, how can you know someone you've never met before?

I shook my head. How foolish of me to think that I would actually know that beautiful goddess from somewhere. It was just the flower of everlasting love, blossoming in the depths of my soul-

Woah woah woah. Back up! Did I just think love? Love? This is crazy! I, like, just met her!.... Rad! I was in love with Max!

Oh what a wonderful world it is! Who has fair brownish hair that blows in the wind and brightens the grayest of hallways at this dumb school! Whose eyes are as brown as melted chocolate from a fountain that starts a fiesta in the mouth after sticking out the tongue? O beautiful gazers of the night sky!

I'm rambling. I shall stopith at onceith!... Nevermind.

"Hey, Fangy-poo!" said a very squeaky voice behind me. I gasped in surprise and spun around clutching my throat.

"Oh, Brigid, you scared me," I said politely to my girlfriend of two months. Her face split into a blinding white grin and hugged me hard around the waist with her beefy arms, her giant bosoms colliding with my chest, leaving me breathless for a few moments. I told her she had to cut down on the amount of surgery she gets…

"So, Fangaliciousness," she slurred seductively in my face, her fat lips caressing my nose, "Are you going to ask me to Winter Formal? We do happen to be the most popular couple at school…"

It was true. Everyone knew about the popular pair that ruled the school (Brigid and myself if those readers with 0.5 GPAs out there do not understand). We could make anyone do anything for us because Brigid was super hot and I was a little hotter than she was. Sweet intimidation…

But soft! Alas! How shall I yearn to accompany Lady Brigid to a ball if my eyes have forgone to an unprecedented candidate of my affections? I bit my lip and eyed Brigid warily. I did not want to infuriate her now, since she could publicly humiliate by beating me up solely with her giant buttocks if I denied her request. I decided to change the subject.

"I have to head off to class, but I will talk to you about this later, sexy," I recited as emotionally as I could while tickling the crook of her elbow She giggled.

"Well, alright my heart's desire. Thou shan't tarry too loftily while desiring such chummy royalty, like myself."

She then proceeded to make out with my eyebrow and skipped off to class, the tall boys staring down at her as she went. Did she just call herself a fish princess? How did she ever pass her Shakespeare essay?

I shook my head and ran off to class.

!#$%^&*()_+

Max's POV

I slipped into my seat for Geometry and stared at the board. I hadn't bothered to turn in my "new student" slip to the teacher. She looked like she smelled something funny, like a flying, talking dog that had a name that sounds like another dog name from a famous movie with a witch and girl with braids. Yeah, that _would _smell. Her nose was crinkled, eyes squinted, and her lips were placed in a pout. Ugh.

I COULD KICK HER ASS!

I jumped up in surprise when an African American girl fell into the seat beside mine. She wore a pink spaghetti strap, pink jeans (where the hell would you get those? O right- Old Navy!), pink flip flops, pink sunglasses, pink this and pink that. I hated her already.

She seemed to notice me staring because she turned in my direction and gave me a rather toothy grin. I prayed to the god of pancakes she wasn't as annoying as she looked. But I bet-

I COULD KICK HER ASS, TOO!

"Hola!" she said with a completely Californian Mexican accent. Psh. Figures.

"My name is Nudge, like the smoothie at Macy's. My favorite color is the number seven and I have a hot tub filled with water!" she said to me. Huh… What?!

"Um, hello. I'm Maximum Ride," I told her. She gasped and propped a hand by her mouth. "What?!" I nearly shouted. What did I do this time?

"You mean, THE Maximum Ride from those books written by James Patterson?" she asked excitedly. Well, anything could get her excited I suppose.

"I think so. When my mom got knocked up she read Harry Potter and named me after the main character."

Nudge crinkled her eyebrow like the ugly teacher on the other side of the room. "What are you talking about? The main character of Harry Potter is _Harry Potter_ you silly goose! Here! Read this!" She chucked a hard cover book at my face and it landed on my desk. I rubbed my nose as I read the cover: Maximum Ride: Fang. I opened the book and tried to lick my elbow.

_10 minutes later…_

"What kind of shit is this?" I asked Nudge when I had finished the book.

Let me describe the situation to ya'll: The author created a series of books with my name on it (Maximum Ride, the _main character!_) and calls the latest book in the series _Fang,_ a _different _character in the book. No offense to the author (well, maybe a little) but what the hell?!

"It's a good book, and I am disappointed that you do not appreciate this marvelous piece of work," said Nudge. She huffed and turned to the front of the class, scrutinizing the figures on the chalkboard. Well, alright then. She suddenly jumped up and grabbed my elbow, pulling me towards her face. She smiled and said, "Let's be friends."

That's chill. "Alright," I said.

**A/N: it's getting late, I wanna sleep… see ya later…. **_**Snoring… **_**Oh! And Review please! **


	4. AN: Suggestions, please!

**A/N: Okay, I promised I would never do one of these author notes for a chapter because I hate these so much, but this is very important. I'm a bit desperate with one of the character descriptions. I am not sure how to make the perfect stereotypical Gasman in high school. Most people mention him in their stories but he's not really specified with certain characteristics. Would some of you Maximum Ride High school writers out there reading this note please review and give me your best description of Gazzy in his/her story. I'll try to ridiculously exaggerate it as best I can. Jade thinks he should be some sort of gay Iggy stalker, but I think that might be offensive to some people. I have an idea of how to make him but it's a bit fuzzy right now.**

**Don't get to frantic because I have developed some other traits for other characters and have some scenes planned out. I'm only unsure what to do with Gazzy.**

**Thanks for the help!**

** Miss Aero **


	5. Dodgeball!

**A/N: Thanks for the suggestions everybody! I'm going with the prankster idea and the gay Iggy stalker idea.**

Max's POV

I left my Geometry class with a shudder and stalked to my next class: physical education (P.E.). I hoped we were going to play dodgeball because I could-

KICK EVERYONE'S ASS!

I heard from some people in the bathrooms (a bunch of squeamish girls) that "Omigod! Dodgeball! Ew! P.E. is the dumbest invention ever since yellow crocs!"**[AN: take that THEYELLOWROSE! (sorry, I don't mean any offense…. Well maybe a little…. But I just had to add that comment into the story ****)] **So, obviously couldn't resist the pumping of my fists and the shouting of "Woohoo!" when I heard the news. O boy! I was gonna-

KICK THEIR ASSES!!!

Anyway, I skipped off to my gym class (after changing my clothes into the ugly gold and blue colored P.E. wear) and held a red ball menacingly in my hand. I waited for the rest of the class to waltz into the gymnasium as foam slowly dripped from my mouth and with clenched teeth. I could not wait!

"Alright! Attention everyone!" the P.E. coach shouted as the rest of the class filed in and sat on the bleachers with me. Nudge sat next to me and placed a comforting hand on my knee. I must have been looking a bit too rabid. "My name is Coach Chu, for those of you who do not know me." He glared knowingly at me and I glared back at him.

"Today we will be playing dodgeball," he continued as he took a seat. As soon as his _gluteus maximus_ was gently set on the chair, the sound of farting was emitted into the air. **(A/N: rhyming!) **Coach Chu abruptly stood up, revealing the whoopee cushion on the seat, and blushed the color of a red tomato, not a yellow tomato. A boy with spiky blonde hair with mischievous grin on his face stood up and took a bow.

"All me! All me!" he announced modestly (sarcasm) and he sat back down.

"Yes! You rock Gasman!" shouted Iggy and he patted Gazzy on the back. The Gasman glanced up at him and smiled shyly and then looked down at his feet. Hmmm.

The teacher coughed. "Anyway, the point of the game is to throw the ball as hard as you can at people on the other team. Hitting the head is preferred, but if not, second best is the naughty bits," he looked pointedly at the boys with sinister eyes, "You all know what I am talking about."

I giggled along with some of the other girls. _This should be fun. _Chuey walked up to the whiteboard conveniently placed in front of the bleachers and started writing on it. Another annoying farting noise was emitted into the air. Some of us sniggered and looked admiringly back at the Gasman. He shrugged his shoulders.

"That was one of my real ones," he smiled. Coughing ensued and gas masks were then placed on faces. The coach put on his gas mask and wrote the teams out on the board. It was sort of stupid of him because he just wrote all the boys' names on one side and all the girls' names on the other. He could have just said boys vs. girls, but, of course, he liked his own handwriting far too much.

"Alright," he shouted to quiet down the chit chat that had started, "Boys on the right, girls on the left."

The entire class got up and moved to their assigned sides of the basketball court. I grudgingly moved towards the left side of the gym. Almost everyone's weak side is their left! That coach was a sexist jerk face! I saw Iggy wink at me from the other end of the court and I scowled at him. Gazzy glanced at Iggy and practically snarled in my direction. _That was frightening. _

The coach placed the red balls in one line in the middle of the court. I smirked as I noticed some of the girls flinching with each bounce. This was going to be a cinch.

"OK! Begin!" shouted Chuey as he waved his hand around to ignite the bloodthirsty teenagers. I yelped a battle cry and charged at the perfect red balls. I heard the other battle cries from the boys and the helpless screaming of the girls behind me. I grabbed seven bouncing balls in seconds and hurled them toward the back. The first part of my plan was to annihilate all my teammates since I knew these dumb girls were going to help me none. My second part of the plan was to annihilate the boys so I (personally) could win the game. I grinned maniacally. Brilliant!

I fired my balls at Lissa and her clique and they all gushed blood in their noses. They screeched grabbing their noses and ran toward the bleachers. I laughed. This was the best fun I'd had since I went to a deserted amusement park and shot down teletubbies. As Lissa jogged off she turned and glared at me. I flipped her off satisfactorily. I turned around and shot a few more of the slutty girls with the ball. They clenched their faces with monstrous roars and escaped the fight. Every single girl: defeated. Mission accomplished.

I faced the boys and they just stared at me, astounded. I smirked and twirled a red ball on my index finger like a stereotypical basketball player. I saw one boy turned to the next boy and whispered loudly, "She's pretty hot."

"That's it!" I screamed and slammed my ball at that boy where the sun doesn't shine. He moaned and fell to the ground. I did the same to the next boy and the next boy and the next boy. Oh, yeah!

I KICKED THEIR ASSES!

Now the only people who were able to avoid my flailing balls of fury were Iggy and the Gasman. The rest of the boys were on the sidelines, cheering on their teammates. My teammates stared grimly at me with frowns on their faces. Great team support, girls!

Iggy winked at me again and I bounced my ball. He was about to pick up a ball and smile again at me when I heard the loudest battle cry in the world. I turned to Iggy's right and saw Gazzy taking out something out of his back pocket. It was a frickin' stick of dynamite!

"Die!" he shouted, throwing the bomb at my face. I barely dodged it as it blew up the rack of basketballs behind me. I yelped frighteningly and fell on the floor. This kid was out of his mind!

Iggy snorted and took out his weapons, which included a javelin, a tank, ZB vz. 24 rifle from Slovakia, a baseball bat, and a complicated box of wires and buttons that I assumed was a bomb. Infuriated, I got up and threw a red ball at the box. It spewed sparks and fell apart completely. I ran to the other side of the gym and snatched the baseball bat from Iggy's hand and started smashing each weapon he had. The rifle was the hardest. I then proceeded to throw a ball at Iggy and Gazzy in their bad spots. They both fell to the ground, groaning. I heard the shriek of the coach's whistle. I had won the game.

I heard someone mutter, "She's super hot" and I aimed another ball in his direction. I heard a groan and grinned at the coach.

**A/N: Ah, that might have been rushed. Review please!**


	6. drunk Jeb and makeovers :P

**A/N: Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Maximum Ride characters. That was James Patterson's mishap.**

**I had to add a drunk Jeb in there because, what good cliché maximum ride story doesn't have an abusive father in the mix?**

**I have no proper excuses for my tardiness. Just read already…**

Max POV

I felt so depressed today. I didn't have the time to annihilate as many guys as I had wanted. I only had the chance to beat up five guys after gym class and I hung one by his underpants on the statue of a chinchilla in front of the high school. Reminds me of the cheer at our school:

Scurry and scamper,

Run and hide.

Nibble their thumbs,

And hope they die!

Yeah, that put a smile on my face at the moment. I almost wet my pants from laughing so hard when the student body shouted that at the two minute pep rally this afternoon. It was probably the dumbest thing I had ever heard. Those dumb cheerleading bimbos,

I COULD KICK THEIR ASSES!

Anyway, I opened the door to my home and the strong stench of alcohol invaded my nose. I rolled my eyes. I should already expect…

My father, Jeb, was sprawled across the couch in a seemingly uncomfortable position. One hand was stretched out toward the ground, holding a sloshing beer bottle. His other hand was holding a pickle. His eyes were bloodshot. They were wide open and glazing blankly into space. His jaw remained slack and a fly circled his drunken face with his ugly stubble. I knew that this would probably be the case when I got home. At my previous house and school, my father had done the exact same thing.

I walked over to him and slapped him in the face. He stuttered in his sleep for a second but then continued snoring. I snarled and knocked his head in with my geometry textbook. He jumped into a sitting position and threw a drunken punch in front of him.

"Dad, you really need to stop drinking!" I shouted in his shocked face. He tried to find my eyes, but was only capable of staring at my chin with his drooping peepers.

"I swear to drunk, I'm not God, you meanie head!" he said indignantly, his disgusting breath making me flinch. He then tried to nail me in the nose but his arm fell and he fell asleep, again. I repeatedly slapped his face, and he stood up in a drunken stupor. I heard his beer bottle smash on the ground.

"You stupid weirdo, I'm gonna beat the living pineapple of desert…" He started to nod off again, so I kneed him in the shin. He woke up once again and jerked his arm in my direction and ended up using that momentum to shove his face into the wall, accidentally of course. He rubbed his unshaven face and glared at me, his eyes a dangerous purple color, with a tint of goldilocks gold. Er, anyway…

I backed up into the kitchen and he followed, stumbling over random items on the floor. I choked on my own spit in order to keep in my laughter. It was funny how he tried to be the typical drunk abusive father, and how I'm all tough because he abused me as a child and in the present. But the truth is, he's super drunk all the time, too drunk to make any good moves on me. Usually, these occurrences end with him gagged and tied to the oven. Yeah, he's just that drunk. Major hangovers after that.

Jeb grumbled a bit and then kicked one of the cabinets. While he was holding his hurt foot in agony, he fell forward from his unbalance on his left foot and his entire head smashed into the oven. Pieces of glass tinkled down his back and onto the floor. He groaned and started to snore. I shrugged my shoulders and left the kitchen.

&^*%#$

I was busy in my room sharpening my teeth with a pencil sharpener when the door burst open and my irritating little sister, Ella, smiled her annoying smile and walked into the room. It's funny that she looks so Mexican. My mother is Asian with a slight Netherlandish accent and my father is from Alaska and his parents grew up in the slums of India. Where did that Mexican blood come from? Then again, we did find her as an infant for the first time in our mailbox with a note attached to her head saying:

_**I open at the close.**_

I'm not sure what the hell that was supposed to mean but it sounded suspiciously like something from "Twilight". I like the possibility of my sister being a vampire.

Anywho, she disturbed my "trying to be an imitation of herself" session and she took the pencil sharpener away. She grabbed my arms and led me down to the kitchen. She positioned me on one of the stools and reached over my father's sleeping form inside the oven, snatching her make-up kit. She was really wanted for her make-up styling by the movie industry. They wanted to make a movie about someone with such a horrible make-up job that the heroine's eyes melted. Ella accepted the job proposition.

I COULD KICK HER ASS!

"What are you doing?" I asked her curiously. I was very frightened by how she might answer this.

"I am going to give you a makeover," she said with an attractive spasm of her hip, dropping most of her supplies. She was just that alluring.

I struggled to get out of the stool, but I was pushed so far into the counter it was hard for me to remove myself from the room. "I don't want a makeover! I'm as dirty as I can get! Stop bugging me about my lack of germs!" I shouted indignantly to her statement.

Ella smiled maliciously and pinched my nose. I was forced to breathe from my mouth. I hated it when she did that! It infuriated me so!

She then released her grip on my nostrils and ran across the room to the fire extinguisher. Breaking the glass, she took it out and swung it like nun-chucks. I grimaced, knowing what she was about to do. We went through this every Monday afternoon. Right on schedule.

She swung the extinguisher hard onto my head. Before I blacked out, I saw the color of the rainbow and a beautiful brown color that reminded me of mud. A frog with wings flew across my vision, shouting, "I would like to see my lawyer about this, Sugarfly!" Grinning at this amphibian's connections to divorce attorneys, I eased away from my painful existence as if I had fallen asleep.

I COULD KICK THE FROG'S….

**A/N: Sorry about updating so late. If you are majorly confused about this chapter, I am thoroughly regretful… Just kidding! I just wanted to act like a mild Lewis Carrol for a change. If you hadn't noticed, there is a big Harry Potter reference in there, for viewers who have not read that series. I've just been very obsessed since I went to Harry Potter world in Florida, US with some of my fellow Brasilians. Cute American guys there, NOT!**


	7. beautiful results and hazardous people

**A/N: Hello, again! Sorry for the wait! Read on!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own these characters so Do Not Sue Me! These characters belong strictly to JP and the plot is an exaggerated version of many high school stories compiled together….**

I woke up from my weird twisted dreams with a light shining in my face. I screamed and jumped up from my supine position to attack the laser pointer directed at me. My sister, Ella, groaned in frustration, lifting the pointer away from my grasp. She set it down on her bedside desk. It had a large mirror with sparkling lights bordering an intricately carved, pink frame. She had stolen it from Justin Bieber before one of his "concerts".

I turned to Ella to demand the reason of my previous unconsciousness but I was too taken aback to say anything. Ella was gaping openly at me and she placed a graceful hand to her mouth in an old English gasp of shock. I started to notice a small tear forming at the edge of her left eye.

"You- you," she stuttered dumbly, "You l-l-l-look ama-a-a-azing." She then coughed awkwardly and nodded for me to look at my reflection. I shrugged and glanced at myself in the Justin mirror.

Both my upper eyelids were stapled to my eyebrows, showing the usually unnoticeable veins above my pupils. Both my cheeks had a red smiley drawn on (well, my left cheek had a smiley face and the other had a frown. This probably was meant to resemble Ella's favorite psychological concept: smiley vs. frowny). My lips were a bright red color and swollen. Ella is the only one I know who can apply lipstick the right way- by repeatedly bashing the cap on the lips until they blow up to an unnatural size. My entire face was painted white like one of the ghosties in the attic. The T-shirt and jeans I had worn today were severely ripped from Ella's sharp nails and painted with various purple spots. I looked pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.

"Wow. I do look nice," I mumbled to myself, turning my body in different angles to get a better look. It was interesting the way my body seemed to change from orange to blue, with each turn I made. I loved changing colors.

Ella was nodding enormously, almost violently, and I worried she would get whiplash. I suppose I was just too beautiful for my own good sometimes.

Suddenly, I heard the familiar _plick plick _of my mother shooting the front door with her new BB gun I bought her for Hanukah. She used it as a warning to any trespassers. So far, it had worked out pretty well.

"Ella! Max! I'm home from my occupation!" my mother shouted up the stairs. I could hear her grunting, which probably meant she brought another stray dog home. She was always bringing dogs off the streets and translating the dogs' thoughts to a crowd of people in the downtown area. She usually set out an old tin that used to hold kibble so people could make their donations to her non-existent "Telepathy for the Canines" service.

"Mother, Max and I are in my room," Ella replied, still staring at me. I was a bit uncomfortable with all the attention, most likely a blush rising to my cheeks.

My mother walked in the room with a scruffy cockapoo. She took one look at me and I heard the whimper and sneeze emitted by the dog as she dumped it on the floor. She whimpered a little herself, staring at me with wide eyes.

Randomly, my mother got down onto her knees and sobbed into the puppy, blowing her nose in the soft fur as the dog howled in agony. The emotional pain of my mother was just too much for him.

"YOU ARE SO _BEAUTIFUL, _MAXIMUM RIDE!" my mom cried in tearful joy, "_YOU ARE THE MOST LOVELY CREATURE TO EVER EXIST!"_

I thought this a bit exaggerated, but I thanked her anyway. Whenever I got a makeover, my entire family would burst into marvelous tears. Really, I do not understand how anyone can be THAT beautiful, even for me…

My mother, Valencia Ride, immediately jumped back to her feet and straightened her skirt with a pleasant smile on her face. "Tonight, our new neighbors are bringing over some dinner and feeding us since we have no food."

She walked with the snot-covered dog back to Ella's bedroom door and abruptly turned around and said, "Oh! And the lady next door says she has loads of adopted children she wants to show us. Isn't that nice, children?"

Ella and I mumbled our "er, yes, very nice"s and went back to whatever we were doing before our mother had barged into the room.

&*^%$#

My mother was downstairs in the kitchen, trying to make the entire house presentable. She was even sure to place some lovely daisies on top of my father's sleeping form in the oven. I wasn't sure when we would be able to use that heating device again…

Ella had just finished attempting to use a curling iron in my hair. Well, there were several curling irons stuck in my hair. We hadn't bothered to actually comb my hair beforehand so my hair was a big tangled mess of curling irons and random clips. It was so embarrassing! We didn't even _bother _to attach straight irons! I also had a multitude of burns along my neck when my sister decided she wanted to know what it was like to be a blind hairdresser.

At least thirty minutes later, it was time for the neighbors to arrive. Ella had demanded that I wait upstairs so I could make a grand entrance. At the top of the stairs, I rocked myself back and forth in the fetal position as I attempted to create a spitball shooter. I wanted to fire a bunch at my dad as karma for his drinking issue.

All of a sudden, the doorbell rang. I sprung up and took a peek through two of the balusters. My mother answered the door and hugged the person at the entrance. After pulling away, she led in the giant family. I recognized a couple of the people who trooped into my house. One was the boy, the guy I ran into the hallway at school. He wore a black shirt, black jeans, black eyeliner, black hair, black underwear (I assumed), black eyes, black nose stud, etc. He was quite dreamy. I settled my erratic breathing from looking at the strawberry blonde boy next to him. He was the boy I retrieved the ability to reproduce from. I believe his name to be….. Ippy? Iffy? Fabio? O no, no. I believe it was Iggy. He was a perv. Next to him was a boy I recognized wearing a sparkly shirt and bedazzled jean shorts. I found his ear studs attractive but I still hated him from the P.E. class. I would probably never forgive him for that dynamite-throwing incident. Following that boy was the girl I met in my Geometry class. What the ^*&#? How do I know all these people? After the girl, Nudge, came my P.E. coach, nibbling on a carrot. Then came in this guy who was made up of boxes with floating intestines. I was surprised anyone would be biologically related to him considering the fact that he didn't appear very humanoid. Anyway, the last to enter the household was a little girl of around six years of age. She peered at her surroundings with her "innocent" blue eyes, but I knew better. I could tell from the start that she was most definitely not innocent.

"Maximum, come down the stairs to meet our new neighbors," my mother called to me.

I immediately jumped from my present position and made my way down the stairs. I tried to dramatically step down each step like a princess, my gloved hand tracing the banister and everything, but on the fifth to last step, I tripped over my new kilt (my clothes that were revised by Ella just looked plain stupid) and somersaulted awkwardly down the stairs. Fortunately, I rammed my head into a hard, cold, metal object and blacked out for a few moments. After regaining the bit of consciousness I contained, I appraised my blockade. It was the guy who always dressed in black!

"Why are you so hard?" I slurred. Behind me, the two mothers giggled hysterically and the black boy offered a hand to help me up. Determined to seem like a burly man, I refused his act of kindness, pushed myself off the ground using my hands, and propelled myself, once again, into his "iron" stomach. I fell back down on my rear end, massaging my aching forehead fervently.

"It hurts so much!" I cried in agony. This time, my mothers rolled around on the ground in joyous laughter and the strange looking man chortled a little, his internal organs swishing around inside his box. It was a peculiar sight indeed.

I didn't refuse the hand the boy offered me this time and he explained shortly, "Sorry, I always wear a giant metal plate under my shirt. It's been a habit of mine ever since Iggy and the Gasman started shooting missiles at my stomach when I arrive home from school."

I nodded, completely understanding. I did not want to underestimate those two. No part of my body was safe from them.

After the two older women had finished wiping the tears from their eyes, they observed the giant group of people. The other lady I did not know the name of seemed to jolt back to reality and started naming off the many children she adopted.

Flipping her handsome blonde hair back, she pointed to herself, "Hello. My name is Anne Walker and this is my multitude of children."

She first pointed to the strange looking man. "This is my only biological son, the Uber Director. He also goes by Ubey, if you would like to call him that. He doesn't mind."

Next my P.E. coach. "This my adopted son Mr. Chu. You may call him Chuey. I never learned his first name, so you can make it up if you wish!"

Next the "innocent" little girl. "This is my adopted little angel from above. Ironically, we call her Angel. Well, after all, I came to love her the day she fell from the clouds and crashed through my bedroom window in a soft pink blanket."

Next the guy in the sparkly top. "This is my adopted son, the Gasman. I assume he is Angel's older brother because he crashed into my bedroom window before her and they look relatively alike. He even comes with at least a dozen gas masks!" The Gasman smiled, and handed me one for free. I grinned back. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

Next the "blind" kid. "This is my adopted son, Iggy. He's blind, so he deserves what ever he wants, whenever he wants!" Iggy winked at me behind his mother's back.

Next the Geometry girl. "This is my adopted daughter, Nudge. She doesn't shut up! She's also very annoying."

Next the tall, dark, and mysterious guy. "This is my adopted son, Fang. He's a bit emo. But he's perfectly friendly once you move all sharp objects away from. I think there may even be a book about him!"

By this time, I was seething in anger. I knew that name.

"YOU!" I snarled at the dark boy. I lunged at him!

**A/N: Mwahahaha! Cliffhanger! In…your….faces. hehe. I'll try to update as soon as possible, but I have a bunch of really hard classes this year so I'm not sure how much I'll be able to squeeze in. Review please! I want to aim for about 60 reviews in total. Sound good?**

**Bo **


End file.
